Happiness
by FailtoWrite
Summary: Maka wasn't happy with any man, after a little fight she made a discovery onto who truly holds her heart. ONESHOT R&R Please


It was what? Ah, four years, since they had defeated the kishin, well more of Maka defeated.

And it had been two since Maka turned Soul into a death scythe. Maka had grown into a still slightly lacking figure, her sandy blonde hair remained a little longer than shoulder length, slim and tall, and was sought after by many men.

She had lost her virginity only a year ago, and had only two accouters after that with different men. She was fed up with men, and Soul, who brought different women home almost every night.

Ever since the whole death scythe transformation girls have been swooning over the silver haired lad. Soul; had gotten taller, developed a rather endearing six pack, yet kept his cynical facial expression and head band obsession.

Tomorrow the pair had an exceptionally hard test and Soul decided to go to the bar, 'to have fun' while Maka slaved over a hot textbook trying to fill her brain.

Maka sighed and ran a hand through her bangs; thinking about the past distracted her from the work splayed out in front of her.

'When the hell is that bastard coming home?' She asked herself.

And as if on 'Q' she heard Soul stumble in mumbling incoherent slurs. Ready the lecture Maka marched out of her room and into a very…perturbing scene.

Soul had a pink haired, full figure, woman pushed almost over the kitchen counter, both having a lovely time, seemingly to ignore her total presence.

Maka glared, she glared so hard her dark green eyes felt like they were about to pop. She took one last glance at them and screamed, what did they do?

"That's nottt coooll."

And with that they fumbled into Soul's room not even bothering to close the door.

Maka rushed into her room and slammed the door, several times.

Maka, as if her insomnia wasn't bad enough; she could hear the squeaks, grunts, giggles, and feel the vibrations of the floor.

She didn't sleep at all, in fact she heard them awake and the pink ditz ask if they were going to see each other again.

Soul played a Soul, 'Sure' he replied.

It was her turn to make breakfast and well, she didn't feel like it. She left her room five minutes before her first class bell was to ring. Passing Soul in the kitchen and walking in front of him in silence. Her hair was down to the fact if she didn't hightail her ass out of the bedroom she was going to be late.

The test was a piece of cake, from the corner of her eye she could see Soul struggling running his hands through his hair multiple times, and for once she actually wondered what his hair felt like.

'Scratch that. I'm still mad.' She raised her hand and brought her test up to the front and sat back down fuming with memories from the night before.

The school day ended almost hilariously boring, dragging her feet as she walked back to the shared apartment. She made it there exhausted, happy though because she didn't have classes for a week, due to some festival.

She changed into a pair of cotton shorts, a light yellow camisole with a pullover pink hoodie. Her hair was tousled and knotted, eyes baggy and red. She made of bowl of cereal and turned the television on to some odd channel.

'Screw whoever's turn it is to cook.' She mused.

Digging into her bowl of cereal hungrily, her eyes trained on the television attempting to block out all memories of yesterdays events.

She heard the front door open and close, his heavy footsteps led up to the sofa that she was so delicately perched on. Maka could feel Soul's eyes bore two perfectly spherical holes into her shoulder.

She wouldn't give in and look into his lazy crimson eyes. She stubbornly chomped away at her cereal, and drank her milk before getting up to walk to the sink. She slid right past him, not even making eye contact and set her bowl into the sink.

"What's wrong Maka?" He knew what was wrong; he had the dauntlessness to ask her what was wrong.

"I wonder too." And with that she sat back down on the sofa and continued to act oblivious to his presence.

Soul sighed, 'Not cool.' he walked over to the television and sat down blocking her view.

"Go away." She said it stern and strong.

"What's wrong?" He asked annoyance clear in his voice.

"Go the hell away, Soul." She this time hissed.

"Tell me what's wrong." He dared push the matter farther.

"You know."

"No, I don't, so why don't you tell me?!" He was basically yelling.

"You really don't know!" Her head jutted from her lithe body, her jugular vein slightly reddened and more visible than usual. Her piece of literature long forgotten.

"I said I don't, didn't I? So fucking tell me, Maka!" Normally she was the one to lose her temper fast, but he wanted her to say it, even if he knew what was wrong.

"You brought that, that, WHORE, to this stupid apartment, and then had sex with her, with your door open!" She paused one hand had found its way to her temple and was rubbing furiously. "And, Soul, YOU KNEW, I was here!"

Now Soul wanted to apologize, but what he was hoping she was going to say she was jealous.

"I was drunk." Three stupid words, a sad excuse.

Now this is where she should yell 'MAKA-CHOP!' but instead…

Maka walked calmly into her room and shut the door she laid on her bed sobbing quietly. Why was she crying? Because she felt sorry for herself, because he didn't care about her feelings about what he does, and because he's so inconsiderate.

About an hour of just sitting stunned Soul stood up and rubbed his neck, 'God, I'm an asshole.' He sat beside Maka's door and knocked twice. He didn't receive a reply; trying his luck he opened the door.

Maka was wrapped in her pink comforter sound asleep; her tears had left behind shiny dry trails down her cheeks. Soul's eyes softened he stroked her cheek, and walked to the door taking one last glance.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, it was barely audible.

The next morning Maka awoke early like she did normally and slipped into the shower.

Soul awoke to the sound of the shower running, he sat up and wiped a bit of drool from the corner of his mouth and walked to his bathroom in boxers. He sluggishly stepped into the shower.

Maka heard the other bathroom water run, she finished swishing and stepped out of the bathroom dressed in her usual home clothes; a dark green hoodie, white tank top, and grey mid-thigh shorts. She didn't normally wear bold colors, but she bought these when her father took her shopping on their 'date'.

She shook her head at the memory.

She made toast then sat on the sofa with a very thick book.

Soul walked into the living room and glanced at Maka. 'Different', he took notice to the unusual color scheme compared to her normal pastel colors.

He dressed in his usual monotone colors, grey pants, and a white shirt.

He was just missing his headband and jacket.

He made himself a bowl and cereal and took a chance by sitting right next to Maka.

Believe it or not she didn't glance at him or flinch.

"Could you scoot over some?" Her eyes never once left her book, a lithe grey eyebrow was raised, he moved over some giving her more space than probably needed.

"Hey Soul?" Maka spoke up after an eternity of silence; he had even finished his cereal long ago.

"Yeah?"

"Why'd you do it?" She was now looking at him; it was his turn to ignore her gaze.

He swallowed now he regretted waking up, 'What should I say?' he was nervous.

"I-I can't say anything in my defense, truthfully, I don't know." He watched her intently wondering what she was going to do.

Would she yell, hit him, cry again?

"I see."

'Wow that was so un-Maka-like.'

She had returned to her book.

"Wanna' go to the bar tonight?"

'Now, that was really un-Maka-like.'

"Sure."

It was like nothing happened, since the bar question they went through their day normally. They met the others for basketball, they ate, and they got ready.

Maka had pulled on slim dark jeans but kept the hoodie and tank top; she tied the graying shoelaces on her dark green converse, and put in dangly silver earrings that Soul had bought her last year.

It was funny; she never dressed up like this. It was either dressy-dress or sleep wear.

She brushed her hair, leaving it down, again.

She stuffed a few bills into her pocket along with chap stick and her cellular.

Soul had been leaning against the vinyl counter-top thinking about the last couple of days and her actual intention of bringing him to the bar. Ending the thought fruit-less he slid his black headband in.

"Come on!" She grabbed his wrist and pulled him out the door. They walked in silence a small smile graced both their lips; the air was cold and refreshing.

They had stridden into the local bar and sat down at the counter. Ordering sake and Asahi beer, Maka turned and faced Soul, they just stared.

In the dim light her emerald eyes looked watery and innocent, the light reflected off her earrings, the ones he had bought her.

Maka looked at Soul; he had grown so much and was half-a-head taller than her now. His style had not once changed, neither did the word 'cool'.

They had just taken the first sip of their alcohol; they were looking at each other very seriously now.

"Now, tell me why you did it." Maka's eyes were challenging.

This time he had a thought out answer.

"An awkward morning is better than a lonely night, and why do you care so much?"

Soul's ruby eyes were scrutinizing, her rich green ones narrowed.

"Despite the fact your roommate is in the room beside yours, defying your partners feelings. It hurts Soul, a lot. Why wouldn't I care about what you do?"

She took a long swig from her beer, it was almost empty.

"Baka, you think I don't know about your hook-ups, huh?" She turned her head ashamed.

Spite rising like bile in her throat, she chokes.

"What about you? How many girls?" She said it loud, attracting attention.

"It doesn't matter, don't you think I have feelings too?" His eyebrows were raised, body tense.

Tears prick the undersides of her eyes, her wrists twitch, she picked up the untouched sake bottle and chugged half of it. The alcohol took affect immediately, the bottle still in hand she stumbled off towards a rather attractive male who was sitting at a table full of guys, and automatically started purring at the guy.

Soul stood up disgusted, Maka was seriously flirting with someone probably half a decade older than her.

"He hurt me? You know that" She slurred pawing at the man.

"You wouldn't do that would you?" The man was smirking at the girl's childish antics.

"So why don't we…" The man said putting his fore and middle finger under her chin.

"Maka, we're leaving." Soul grabbed her hand and tried to pull her away.

"Nuuu, we were just fuuuhhn." Maka whined.

"Excuse me, but we were talking." The male that Maka had been flirting with stood up walking over to Soul.

"Excuse me, but we're leaving." Soul replied pulling Maka who was futilely trying to stay put.

"Really? Then…" the man pushed Soul.

Soul momentarily let go of Maka's arm.

"Not cool."

And punched the man in the face, hard.

It was funny; Soul never fought back.

Soul dragged Maka out of the establishment; she was crying and scratching at his hand.

"Soul, let go!" He just kept walking.

"I hate you!" She yelled crying, he felt his heart clench, but stubbornly clutched her hand in his and walked.

By the time they had reached the apartment her hysterical crying had reduced to muffled sniffles.

He opened the door and she ran in, she faced him her eyes filling with premature tears again.

"Always hooking up? What about me! I've been by your side forever!

"I hate you so much; you're just like my dad!"

And before she could say anymore Soul had grabbed her hands and pushed her up against the wall. His eyes were pleading, he looked so hurt. Maka tried but she couldn't look at him anymore.

"Maka." He took in a long ragged breath "You don't mean that do you?" He sounded weak different than his usual stoic facade, he had never once cried in front of her but it sounded almost like he would.

She had her head turned to the right; she couldn't bear to look him in the eyes.

"No." It was so quiet she waited a couple of minutes, they just stood like that. Bodies flushed against each other, she slowly turned her head and looked into those watery poppy red orbs.

And he kissed her.

It wasn't rough romantic movie kiss.

It was soft and sweet, passionate and worth it.

There wasn't lovely tongue and spit everywhere.

It was an intake of fresh air after being stuffed into a garage with the car engine on.

The kiss was real.

They pulled away, cheeks flushed from alcohol and the embarrassment.

They needn't breathe hard, for it was pure happiness taking over their senses.

"I love you." He said it.

"I love you too."

And then for the millionth time that night Maka's eyes started to tear up, but this time from happiness.


End file.
